


Weaker

by Pinnacle75



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinnacle75/pseuds/Pinnacle75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life on tour isn't a dance on roses. Especially not if your relationship with your best friend is changing into something that can't be put into words. Just ask Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weaker

**2015**

Louis had a jealous streak the width of a freeway. He knew it, had always known it, and it was one of the ugly traits he most despised about his own person. He wasn’t sure where it had sprung from, but it had grown in his early years, firstly about toys he wasn’t getting, then talents he didn’t possess, and then, lastly, about people he couldn’t have.

The bitter jealousy was part of his person now, an ugly rash that spread as he got older, and the thought that it might be with him for life scared him and made him feel more hopeless than he could ever have guessed. 

He wanted to blame someone, a certain someone, but every time he tried, every time he attempted to direct the anger at his best friend, that arrow of accusation just boomeranged and shot back at himself, spreading the guilt inside him like a poison. It wasn’t Harry’s fault. Harry was young, innocent, and more oblivious than the media thought. He was nothing like the Lothario they tried to make him out to be, and Louis sometimes wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing. All he knew was that being in love with his best friend truly was tearing him apart.

So he’d done what was right. He’d done the thing he had given promises he wouldn’t do, and he’d down it without consulting anyone. The world would be one secret shorter soon. 

Louis thumbed the envelope in his hand, pursing his lips slightly as he once again considered the words he had written inside, knowing full well that they would change everything. He half wanted to tear up the paper and burn it, but he couldn’t live like this any longer. He didn’t cry, he had done far too much of that already, but simply stuffed the letter beneath Harry’s pillow in his bunk before he could talk himself out of it, then turned and walked out the door. He did not look back.

**2013**

Louis was happy. A shiver of excitement trailed down his spine as the bridge was nearing the end and the chorus was looming. It was their biggest song to date, and the exhilaration inside the arena did not only belong to the fans. The moment was euphoric. He grinned as the music hit and his face lit up the enormous screens behind him. His eyes found Harry’s. They were equally ecstatic.

Louis felt on top of the world.

:-:-:-:

“Shows like that make it all worth it,” Harry claimed a few hours later as he sank onto the curved sofa on their tour bus. “It was amazing.”

“It was,” Louis agreed with a smile and sat down next to his friend, glad to be alone with him. He still felt the elation that had been with him on stage but fatigue was starting to take over now that he was allowed to relax. It was a reminder that they had only just breached the first half of their tour dates and that many more were waiting ahead of them. He supposed he wasn’t the only tired one judging by the way his band members had looked in the dressing room a while ago. 

At the moment however, the other boys were nowhere to be seen. Louis guessed that Zayn had already gone to bed, that Liam was still outside with the fans and that Niall was raiding nearby buildings for good food. But a second later he knew he’d been mistaken because Niall entered the lounge, mouth half open and chewing something indistinguishable. He fell onto the sofa with a loud thump. Louis made a face to go with his frown.

“Are you staying up with me, Lou? What do you want to watch?” Harry asked, scooting off the sofa to survey their DVD collection by the TV.

“Something fun,” Louis decided, throwing Niall a suspicious sideways look, trying to catch his eye. 

“Alright.”

“Go with Ted, it’s hilarious,” Niall volunteered, grinning at the back of Harry’s head and then turned his smile towards Louis. The smile faltered pretty quickly.

“Fuck off mate!” Louis mouthed and jerked his head towards the door. Niall looked confused and Louis had to repeat the silent words another three times before his friend got the message. Niall shot a quick look at Harry who was loading the player and then back again at Louis.

“Actually,” said Niall slowly, “I think I’ll leave you boys to it. Feeling quite tired suddenly.” 

Glad that the blonde didn’t linger, Louis leaned back in his seat and watched him leave the lounge. Harry joined him a second later. “What was that about?” He nodded towards the empty doorway.

Louis smiled sweetly. “No idea.” He grabbed Harry’s arm and placed it around his own shoulders, leaning into him and resting his cheek against Harry’s chest. He was warm and much too comfortable, his clean t-shirt smelling faintly of Harry’s most recent shower. Louis could never figure out how Harry always smelled the same, despite the hundreds of different soap brands they came across on tour. His scent never differed, and it was always intoxicating. Louis closed his eyes and let his other senses take over for a bit. Occasionally Harry’s chest shuddered as he laughed at the movie, but the rest of the time all that Louis felt were even breaths and steady heartbeats. 

His fingers played with the white hem of Harry’s shirt, twisting the fabric around them, looping it, making it tight against his friend’s skin. He smiled to himself as he let his hand travel up Harry’s chest. 

“I can make your nipple hard, look.” Louis gave the little bud a few quick flicks with his fingernail through the thin t-shirt material.

Harry gave up a noise that could have been a moan and gently slapped Louis’s hand away as he laughed. “You’re not really into the movie, are you?”

“It’s alright,” Louis said, leaving the fact that the sight of Harry’s hard nipple entertained him a hundred times more unsaid. 

“Do you want to watch something else? We can.”

Louis shook his head. “Nah, you like this one.” Harry and Niall shared the same weird taste in movies. 

Harry let his free arm slide around to Louis’s waist and Louis melted into the touches, trying to enjoy them before his thoughts ruined the fun. Just as he wished for it not to, his mind worked itself into gear. 

He and Harry were just good friends, right? Or more? Or not? Despite their closeness there was nothing going on. Louis simply loved Harry platonically, wasn’t that right? Yes. He didn’t love Harry. He didn’t love Harry. He didn’t love Harry. Louis repeated the mantra in his head until he felt dizzy.

He quenched a sigh and felt his mood slip into something grayer. He slowly extricated himself from Harry’s faint embrace and sat up. The smile on his lips was weak and felt sad now but he hoped it didn’t show. “I’m glad we’re friends, Hazza.” He accompanied the statement by dunking a fist very gently against his friend’s ribcage. Completely on accident it lined up with Harry’s heart. Louis quickly withdrew the hand.

Harry shifted to get a better look at him and then cocked his head to the side. His eyes searched Louis’ for a few moments. “Yeah, me too.” He said, with just an edge of confusion clinging to the words. 

Louis let one side of his mouth curve into a quick smile. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

“Night.”

When in bed, Louis couldn’t sleep. The happiness he had felt earlier was still there but it was fragmented now, mixed with a somberness that he more than well knew the root of. Harry. It was always Harry. Louis rubbed his eyes. He was tired but knew the sleep wouldn’t be relaxing in his state. He would have loved a massage, someone rubbing his body the right way, easing the tension out of his bones. Louis loved touches, whether they came from family or friends or someone even closer. Being touched always reassured him. Even more he loved doing the touching, especially when his imagination gave him free reign of the subject. Louis closed his eyes and thought of the face he had just seen, and then pictured the body to go with it. Harry was a beauty. His skin was flawless despite the tattoos inked into his arms and chest. Louis ran his fingers across the plains of pale skin, bending them to leave sharp red nail lines in the white. In his imagination, Harry hissed, his eyes falling closed as Louis’s hands slipped further down his chest and dipped just beneath the waistband of his boxers.

Louis bit back a sigh. His hand had sneaked to his own cock, squeezing it through the fabric of his underwear. He knew his bunk wasn’t the right place for a wank, especially with three of his band members in their respective beds very close to him, but the thought of Harry had simply always made him a bit crazy, a bit reckless, and much too passionate. He imagined Harry’s husky voice, just whispering faint words in his ear and he nearly came right then and there. Louis had always had a very active imagination. 

It was that thought that brought him out of it. His eyes found the ceiling and he blinked up at it. What if that was all it was though? Imaginary. What if there was absolutely nothing going on with him and Harry; what if he only thought there was? Couldn’t he have read the signs wrong? Harry was, and had always been, a very affectionate person after all, and his actions weren’t only directed towards Louis. He often gave away hugs and kisses like candy to children, and got so much love back in return. Louis sometimes thought his friend was quite addicted to it. He knew it wasn’t just Louis’s love that made him happy. 

Louis made a face to himself and rolled onto his side, all thoughts of a quick tug forgotten. It was happening more and more lately. He was starting to doubt himself, doubt Harry, and didn’t know if he could trust his own judgment anymore. 

Not long ago had it all been fun and exciting. Louis had been young, Harry younger, and he hadn’t known how to express love to another bloke before. He’d had a lot of friends growing up, but they had all only ever been interested in girls and male contact had been relegated to slaps on the back or the sporadic one-armed hug. But then along came Harry, who wasn’t like any of the guys Louis had grown up with. He was quiet and contemplative, but intensely intelligent and easy to be around. They had hit it off from day one. Louis had very quickly realised that Harry didn’t mind lingering touches or long hugs. In fact, he incited plenty of them, and stirred up Louis’s teenage hormones in the process. 

They had grown into the relationship they had now with little things that made them closer everyday. Being affectionate with each other was second nature to them, and barely something they reflected over in their everyday lives. Only when someone else commented on it made Louis see it in a different light, but he knew there was nothing about him and Harry that he wanted to change. Except maybe…

Maybe he wanted Harry to talk about their relationship, that they were in one. If he could just mention it once to Louis then everything would be good and dandy, but Harry never did. For all Louis knew, they were simply just very close friends. And at one time he would have been fine with that, but he’d passed that point a fair while back. 

Now he just felt desperate for confirmation that he wasn’t crazy and that Harry was his and only his. The situation was completely ridiculous.

Louis closed his eyes as his thoughts chugged on. He heard Harry’s distinct steps on the carpet in the slim aisle but didn’t want to talk to him. Instead he just listened for the rustling sounds of clothes as Harry stripped off and climbed into his bunk. 

Louis fell into a fitful sleep two hours later.


End file.
